


Timey-Wimey Fix-It

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, No Smut, One Shot, Time Travel, but not too much, mostly just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After everything they've been through, Team Free Will 2.0 dies after a monster attack, and Castiel sends Dean back to 2005 with no instructions, not even telling him that once he's steered any and all ways that future could happen off track, Castiel will join him.Basically a short amalgamation of ideas I have about if Dean got a redo, there were certain characters I found too interesting to let go of and I like the idea that even without Sam, Dean is still a great hunter who manages to surround himself with loved ones.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Gabriel & Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 210





	Timey-Wimey Fix-It

Dean was horrified as he looked around. He had lost track of where they were, all he knew was they were near the bunker, somewhere in the woods surrounding it in Lebanon, Kansas. They had been forced to run, to retreat, but they had quickly become surrounded.

The first one to go had been Jack. Dean had to whip his head around as he heard a noise rip out from Castiel’s throat, like a wounded animal. Cas had quickly beheaded the beast that had tore into Jack’s neck.

Leviathans. Damn Leviathans. If it wasn't one thing it was always another, right? With Michael dead, Jack’s soul intact, Dean had begun to believe they could finally be happy. Fulfill his matching-hawaiian shirts fantasy. Amidst the chaos he could feel it. The warm wind on his face. He stabbed a machete into another Leviathan. The sand between his toes. He ripped it out. The sound of seagulls. Team Free Will 2.0, lying there, peacefully.

He should have known things wouldn't end well. Who would have suspected The Shadow to unzip Purgatory in revenge? Dean had been thrilled, albeit momentarily confused and furious about the deal he never knew about being broken. Cas, safe from the Empty.

This was not safe.

It was when he saw Sam hit the ground that his mind went blank. He barely noticed being hit from behind and falling to the ground.

It was light when he opened his eyes. How many hours had he been out? He could feel drying blood in his fingers, becoming aware of his injuries. The Leviathan’s were gone, and there Dean lay, seeing his dead brother, his dead family, himself soon to join them. He could feel his strength slipping away.

“No.” He muttered. It was small, but it was full of sorrow. He saw one of the figures on the ground stir, a slight shudder coming from the huddled form in a trench coat, facing away from him. Clutching his side, where he could feel a deep wound covering most of his torso, dripping blood. Dean crawled over to Castiel, unable to stand. He placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him so that he would be on his back and not his side.

Dean could see his face, bloody and broken. He remembered a time he stood over him, the Mark of Cain on his arm, but even then, this Cas was far worse. However, he was conscious.

“Dean.” Hearing his best friend’s deep, gravelly voice again made Dean want to cry. But even through his relief, he saw that Cas himself was dying. Regardless, the man weakly lifted a hand, Dean assuming it was reaching for his forehead to heal him. Dean grabbed his hand, stopping him and clinging to him any way he could at the same time. “You're going to die, Dean, please-”

“Stop it Cas.” Dean let out a rough laugh, laced with pain. He was in so much pain. “You’re too weak. Worry about yourself for once, would you?”

Castiel smiled, and it made Dean lighter to see it was genuine. “You know me, always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.” A dark look came across his face. “It can’t end like this.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Dean took the arm he had placed on his side in a weak attempt to quell his bleeding and put it on Cas’ hair. He could see his friend slowly going out beneath him, and tightened the grip he had on Castiel’s hand.

Cas looked up at him, an idea forming on his face. “The Leviathan’s will take over. We can’t let that happen. I-I can’t let you die.”

“You can, Cas. It’s okay.”

“I won’t let this be the ending, Dean.” With all the strength he could muster, the angel reached up his free arm and clutched it to Dean’s shoulder. It was familiar, the same place as Dean’s scar from being pulled out of hell.

In an instant, Dean was surrounded by a bright flash of light, and he felt a complete absence of Castiel's presence. He was no longer holding onto the man, and he felt himself sitting in an all too familiar spot.

A scream came from Sam in the passenger seat as the Impala swerved dangerously off the road. Dean was quick to regain composure and he slammed on the brakes, parking the Impala in a well-placed dugout.

He felt the blinding pain of his injury and he basically fell out of the car as he opened the door. Not once in that moment did he even attempt to use his legs, he just went back to clutching his side and used his free arm to push the door open and he threw himself out of the seat and landed on the ground.

He heard his name being called by his brother, but Dean was too disoriented to understand where he was or who he was with. Less than 30 seconds ago he had been watching Cas die in the forest and now it was somehow night again, and his not-so-dead brother had been in the passenger seat of a car that Dean left at the bunker when they fled.

His mind not able to process that he wasn't where he had been before he began to shout hysterically, his head wildly whipping around. "Cas?! Cas where are you?!"

He felt two arms reach around his shoulders and his back, forcing him to face his brother. And it was his brother, it was Sam, but not the Sam he expected.

This Sam had shorter hair that was unkempt, he had bangs, and strangely, he had the face of a child. Or what seemed like a child to Dean. This face was an adult, but one from years ago. Less worry lines when he crinkled his forehead, more confusion than concern that had become Sam's almost natural state when Dean would act odd. He was more than just young, he was lighter than the Sam that died in the woods.

The woods… Cas, Jack, Sam, and the woods. They were all dead, and Dean should be joining them soon, he had lost so much blood he was shocked he woke up at all. But he realized that his side hadn't hurt since he hit the ground, falling out of the Impala. It hurt to hit the roadside, but the weakening, horrifying pain that Dean felt in the woods and even in his car just moments ago had vanished, and there was no blood on his hands.

He looked at Sam again, this young, less burdened Sam. He wanted to leap to his feet and hug him, but the Sam he really wanted to hug was the one who just died. This was a different version, one who hadn't brushed with death recently.

"Dean stop it!" Dean finally heard his brother's voice. He wagered he had probably been shouting at him since he nearly killed them driving off the road. He could see a sliver of relief on his brother's face as Dean's eyes steadily locked his own. "You're scaring me."

Dean had to take a moment, fully understand he wasn't in those woods anymore. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice sounding more timid than he expected.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking more frustrated than annoyed, probably due to an overwhelming amount of panic and concern. "We're on the road, Dean. We're heading to Jericho, remember?"

Dean shook his head. Jericho, that place sounded familiar. Like an old case… the old case where he brought Sam back into the fray back in…

"Oh my god, it's 2005." Dean leapt to his feet and looked at himself in the Impala's mirror. He was young, really young. If it hadn't been for that time that a witch literally turned Dean into a child again, he might have been more shocked. He figured he was either 25 or 26, he would have to nail down when he was later.

This was it. Castiel had used the last bit of his strength to send Dean back in time, but not just to be back in 2005, but to become 2005 Dean Winchester again. Cas gave him a chance, a way to stop what was going to happen. A way to send him back far enough, to right the wrongs that led to the Leviathan's returning.

It was a fair bet to send him so far back in time. After all, the Leviathan's being released was a result of Castiel breaking his deal with the Shadow, which was a result of making the deal in the first place, a result of bringing Jack back from Heaven, a result of Jack's sickness, and so on and so on. Every problem in the life of the Winchesters was a domino in a long line of dominoes, and you could say they line up all the way to Mary Winchester's death, or maybe even further back to when she made that deal with Azazel. Quite possibly, if Dean was to overthink this, those dominoes have been piling on them from Cain and Abel times.

"I won't let this be the ending, Dean." Cas' last words to him. The last thing he heard him say. Castiel wanted this to happen, he thought it needed to happen. And Dean would be damned if he didn't grant Cas his last wish. He had been damned before, and it wasn't thrilling the first go around.

When he finally turned to face Sam again, his younger younger brother looked absolutely horrified. Dean felt hot tears reach the edges of his mouth to notify him that he was crying. Figures, but he couldn't explain that now. How could he tell Sam that he was crying because he had just lost everyone he ever loved? Before he could tell them one last time that he loved them. To his family, to his brother, his son, his… 

How could he ever tell this young version of the Sam he knew and lost why he was crying here and now?

"Dean please, please for the love of god just talk to me!" 

This Sam was so young, so innocent, in the way an early 20s college student raised with a gun in his hand and a grudge in his heart could be. This was a Sam who hadn't seen Dean become a demon, or die and come back from hell, a Sam who never drank demon blood, who had never been a vessel for not one but two powerful, grudge-holding angels.

This Sam Winchester didn't even know angels were real. This Sam didn't have the exorcism words memorized, didn't know how to paint a devil's trap, didn't lose Jessica.

Jess. That was it. The realization that hit Dean in his gut. It was 2005, and they were going to Jericho to stop the woman in white. Jess wasn't dead.

Cas had used his last bit of life to send Dean back to fix things, to change things. And though thinking of the future without him ached, the first thing he had the chance to fix was keeping Sam out of this life. Keeping him from hunting.

Years ago, Zachariah proved to Dean Smith and Sam Wesson that hunting was in their blood and they'd find their way back to it no matter what, but Sam wouldn't come crawling back if he had a reason to stay. Jess was that reason.

"I'm sorry, Sammy, I don't know what happened to me." It was a lie, but Dean's shock from the situation as a whole served to make it believable enough to placate his brother as an excuse, but Sam wasn't giving up.

"Why'd you fall out of the car? You were shouting hysterically and you didn't even hear me talking to you!"

"I know, I'm sorry." Dean wasn't sure how to excuse what happened. He didn't even know where to start. "Let's just get back in the car."

Sam laughed, it was dry and a little patronizing but Dean couldn't complain. "You're just going to get back up and drive now? You nearly crashed dad's car."

"It's my car." Dean shot back, reflexively. "While he's gone, at least." He hurried to try and make sense.

"Either way, you're not driving. Now I know that you-" Sam found himself stopping as Dean rolled his eyes and tossed him the keys. Sam almost didn't even catch them, and he looked at them in surprise. Dean forgot that 2005 Dean probably would have told Sammy to stick it where the sun don't shine and go back to driving. "Really?"

"Are you going to complain that I'm listening to you now?" Dean figured he didn't need to cover for small slip ups when Sam had literally just seen Dean act like he had lost his mind.

They got back in the car and Sam turned on the engine, before taking a breath and looking at Dean. It sounded like he was trying to prepare himself. "I'm taking us back to my place. I don't know what happened but we can go back to looking for dad once you've had some sleep, like, real sleep, not in the car."

Dean smiled a bit, knowing that going back was exactly what he needed. If he could get Sam to willingly go back to Jess then he could leave him there while he took measures to ensure that she was safe. The last thing he wanted right now was for Sam to suddenly drop all his commitments to go looking for dad, when Dean knew damn well what lay ahead of them was a case. "Sounds good."

Sam looked more astonished than he did when Dean tossed him the keys. "Do I need to take you to a hospital? Did you hit your head when you fell out?" He reached his hands onto Dean's face and was sorting through his hair. "I don't see any blood."

Dean couldn't help but laugh as he batted his brother's hands away. "I'm fine, I've just gained more sense while you were away at college."

The drive back started out quietly. Sam asked Dean what happened and Dean just shrugged and said he didn't know, again. This time he was sure Sam didn't believe him.

After a little while longer, Sam's voice dragged Dean back from his thoughts. "Who is Cas?" The unsettled surprise and grief on Dean's face did not go unnoticed as the hunter clearly tried to cover his emotions. 

"Who?" Dean pretended he knew nothing about what was happening. But Sam pressed on.

When you fell out of the car, it was like you expected someone to be there. You were calling out for 'Cas'. Who is that?"

Dean could see Cas lying on the grass in the pale light of the morning, his face a bloody pulp, the weakness in the way he raised a trembling arm to try and heal Dean. But what could he tell Sam? Cas is an angel, who lives with them in the future? Cas has saved their lives more times than he can count, and had been there for Dean in ways he can't comprehend? That Cas was his angel? That he was his? Dean couldn't understand what he was feeling, what he was thinking.

"He's nobody." Dean's voice was small, and Sam noted that a steady stream of tears fell down his brother's face, but the exhaustion in his voice kept him from questioning him further. All he could do was press the gas harder than before.

-

It has been relatively easy to convince Dean to go back to Sam's place. He was surprised at how his brother was acting. Dean was letting Sam take charge. Willingly. That never happened.

When they got home, Sam slipped some holy water into the glass he got for Dean, he even picked up a silver coin and put it in his palm as he patted Dean's exposed arm. If Dean felt the cold metal, he didn't say anything.

It was Dean, just acting strange. Sam desperately wanted to understand what happened on the road, and he knew Dean was lying when he claimed not to know anything.

Dean was pretty spun out when it happened. And the fact that when he asked who Cas was, Dean not only clearly had an emotional reaction but also accidentally gave him a pronoun wasn't making Sam feel any better. But when Dean threw himself onto Sam's couch with no protest about getting out on the road instead, Sam felt a little bit better.

What was strange was the next morning. Sam woke up before Jess and came downstairs to see Dean, not only awake but cooking breakfast, seemingly for all three of them. Dean was consistently a shitty cook, but everything looked and smelled good.

"Morning sunshine!" Dean called cheerfully, flipping over an omelet. An omelet. Since when did his brother make anything but bacon and burnt toast?

"You're happy today." Sam muttered gratefully.

"It's a new day Sammy. A new life. New possibilities! No use dwelling on the bad things." A dark look cast over his face at the end of his proclamation, but he went back tk aggressively humming a rock tune.

"Bad things, like what happened last night?" Sam feared bringing it up would start a fight, but Dean barely reacted, probably expecting it.

"Yes. Exactly that."

"Yeah, or bad things like having to go find dad."

Dean turned off the stove and turned to face Sam after that. "Actually, yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that." He looked down for a moment. "I'm gonna go to Jericho alone, actually."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Hold on, you burst into my house after almost four years, in the middle of the night to beg me to come with you, and now you want me to pretend it didn't happen?"

"First of all, I did not beg you. Second, I overreacted. That's on me. Hell, that's probably what led to my little… panic attack last night." It seemed convenient as a reason, but Sam wasn't ready to drop it.

"Dean seriously, what's going on?"

"Look, you're happy with Jess. And honestly man, I'm just happy you're happy. I'm not going to drag you down with me. Stay here, make a lot of money, treat that girl of yours right, and I'll deal with dad. And all the things that go bump in the night. You don't have to worry your nerdy little head about it."

Sam had a lot of opinions, a lot of things he wanted to say, but he couldn't say them. If he protested, what could he use as an excuse? Jess was here, and surely she'd be gere when he got back, but when has anything to do with John Winchester ever been quick and easy? Another part of him thought to Dean's desperation that he come and help him find their father, but the Dean cooking omelets for them right now was just as earnest as the one who tackled him in the middle of the night. If Dean had wanted Sam to come with him, he just as much so wanted him to stay now. 

It seemed to come from a genuine place. There was this small smile when Dean would mention Sam living his life with Jess. Dean had never been happy with Sam not being a hunter before, but it seemed to change suddenly, like Dean didn't want him in the life.

"Dean," Sam said after careful consideration. "You know that I don't think any less of you for wanting to be a hunter, right?"

There was a look on Dean's face that Sam couldn't pin down. It was the kind of look that seemed specific to Dean, but it was a Dean he barely knew, a Dean he apparently couldn't read anymore, or predict. "Of course I know that. Sam, I'm happy for you. I'm thrilled you aren't hunting. You should stay that way." Dean took a step to his little brother. "I want you to make me a promise."

"What kind of promise?"

"No matter what happens in your life, no matter what comes up or what you're reminded of or what you're asked to do, you'll stay out. You'll never, ever, come back to hunting. You'll look the other way, or call someone else to handle our kind of job. Promise me."

There was a deep, desperation in Dean's eyes. It scared him.

"Okay, but only if you make me a promise too Dean."

"Hit me."

"You have to promise that even though I'm out of the life, that i won't be out of your life. I know we haven't talked in a long time, and I know we have our disagreements, but I don't want to keep living like that. I want my brother back."

Dean smiled at him. "That's a promise I can make Sammy."

-

Things didn't happen the way they did the first time around. One by one, Dean made sure to keep those pesky dominoes from tipping.

After leaving Sam and Jess, Dean made sure to clean up the mess surrounding them. He started by killing that demon friend of Sam's who was going to kill Jess. He hunted down every damn demon staked out at Stanford while hiding from his brother who assumed he left.

Dean kept his promise. He remembered that life the djinn showed him, the one where Sam wasn't hunting anymore but looked at Dean and saw a stranger, a brother he barely knew. Dean wouldn't let that happen. He called him every once in a while and listened happily to Sam's tales of the mundanity that was his college life. And Sam was all too eager to hear Dean's hunting stories. They weren't as close as Dean had been to Sam before, the Sam that died in the woods that day, but just knowing that his brother was happy and safe was better than anything he could hope for.

The first year was rough, but the cases were easy. The cases followed the patterns they followed before, and all Dean had to do was go about them the way he normally would until the memories of exactly how they went down became clearer. On average, he was saving more people than they did before because he knew what he was dealing with.

Dean wasn't used to hunting alone again, and it took some time. Obviously he was glad Sam was out, but it had been a long time since he had to worry about not having a partner. He couldn't just call up Jack or Cas and have them tag along. But it was that realization that led Dean to other hunters, people who he knew, or respected, or idolized, or loved that he never really got the chance to spend enough time with before.

But as the months went on, Dean was stepping right over more and more dominoes, without them tipping. No Sam meant no demon deal, which meant no hell and no breaking of the first seal. With the knowledge he had, Dean was able to track down and kill Azazel with the Colt before he ever even opened the Devil's Gate.

There were still some large threats, but after avoiding the first few big ones they were just completely different. With Ellen and Garth by his side they took down rogue angel squadrons, impatient for an apocalypse that seemed to never start. A recently befriended Gabriel, Bobby, and Jody helped defeat a disgruntled Lilith and Dagon army. And at the end of the day, he would call his little brother and tell him all about it.

Dean remembered the infamy of the Winchester name in his other go around, and now ir wasn't the Winchesters, it was Dean the hunter. Dean the hunter who helped equip hunters with angel blades for killing the angels and the demons, Dean the hunter who worked with an archangel, Dean the hunter who killed the ghost of Jack the Ripper. Hunters told stories about him, but in the way Dean wanted. Not the brothers who saved the world, but the guy who did his job.

For years, Dean remained content like this, but every night he couldn't help but be hit with the old grief for the life he had before. Sure, he had friends now that he'd lost before or never even made, certainly some of the best and most powerful allies he'd ever had too, but they weren't his family. He still had this more distant Sam, and perhaps a closer relationship with Bobby too, but he missed Castiel and Jack, and selfishly he missed the older Sam too.

He would have dreams every night of them. Sometimes all three, sometimes in pairs, and sometimes just one. The dreams were sometimes nightmares, but mostly they were fantasies or happy memories. His favorites were the ones most special to him in his past. Hunting a phoenix in the old west with Sam, fishing at that lake with Jack, Castiel wearing that cowboy hat and saying "howdy partner" while they were working that case in Dodge City. A memory he had where the four of them sat in the bunker on Dean's bed watching old horror movies while Jack asked nonstop questions about the character's behavior while Sam laughed loudly with a mouthful of popcorn. When Dean would explain how the different scenes were shot to Cas and Cas would stare at Dean and smile, letting him drone on and on, as they sat really close together on the cramped bed.

Dean loved the three of them in a way he couldn't love anyone this time. This Sam was his brother and he loved him, but they rarely saw one another in person, let alone had anything in common anymore. Without the apocalypse, Lucifer never left the cage so Jack was never even born. There was no hell, so there was no Castiel to pull him out.

He was well aware that there was a Castiel in this lifetime, but it was one who didn't care about him. Everytime Dean had to kill off a rogue angel garrison, he would ask Gabriel the names of every angel there, on the off chance that Castiel was using an unrecognizable vessel and had a vengeance against humanity. He knew that this Cas wasn't his own, but Dean knew that if he ever encountered Castiel here, he wouldn't be able to hurt him.

"Why is it important to you?" Gabriel asked him one night. It had been seven years since Dean got sent back to change things. Gabriel was helpful in infiltrating the bunker three years back so that Dean wouldn't have to wait until Henry Winchester traveled back in time with a key.

The two of them were leaning against walkway in the bunker, each drinking a beer as they watched Claire, Alex, and Jo start a round of arm wrestling matches as Charlie and Frank Devereux were swapping tech tips behind them. Ash was passed out drunk on the couch and Rowena and Rufus were drawing on his face with a marker. Kevin was shouting at Crowley to stop singing as he broke into the hundredth loop of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" which Garth was enjoying too much.

Dean was proud of the bunker, but it was lonely most nights. He'd have his friends over a lot of the time, but they lived all over and hunted even farther away. The bunker and Dean himself had become what Bobby's place was to Dean when he went through this the first time. A safe space with lore and weapons and a cold beer for when you needed a breather. There were a lot of people here tonight to celebrate the final takedown of Uriel's army, hell-bent on killing human beings they considered "altruistic" or simply good people.

Without Sam, Cas, and Jack, the bunker seemed bigger than it had been before. Kevin spent a lot of nights at the bunker, and so did Gabriel, but Kevin had picked up on hunting and had a knack for it, and Gabriel didn't need sleep so he would go off on missions and be gone for weeks. 

There were some things that Dean couldn't fix and some things that were different and much worse. Patience, the psychic, had become bitter at her father's rejection of her powers, so she started killing skeptics. Kevin's mom died only a few days after someone found the demon tablet, which woke Kevin's prophet abilities this time. Rufus actually was the one who trained Kevin and for a while they both lived in the bunker with Dean. There were some hunters that died, some friends that Dean never even had the chance to see again before they died or left the life.

Still, a lot of good happened. Rowena and Crowley managed to mend their relationship and Crowley asked Dean to cure him of being a demon. When Crowley became human, Rowena taught him some of her witch skills and they used it to become hunters of other witches. Garth wasn't a werewolf, Kevin wasn't dead, and Dean had actually met a lot of people that he hadn't met this early in his life. After all, he still had many years before he would catch up with his original time.

Gabriel was perhaps the best change for Dean specifically. He went for the case that he and Sam did before where Gabriel pretended to be the Trickster and made that boy think he was slow dancing with aliens, but Dean's ability to predict his movements actually impressed Gabe. The two of them became friends and Dean admitted to knowing who he was. What made his newfound friendship with Gabriel better was that he never asked him why, he was just intrigued.

Now, they were close. Besides his rekindled father-son relationship with Bobby and his older-brother mentorship with Kevin, Gabriel was the closest thing Dean had to family here. Family that reminded him of his old family, of Team Free Will. He hadn't expected Gabriel of all people to be a crutch for him, but he was. Dean appreciated his sarcasm and his jokes, and having an archangel on his side wasn't too bad.

"Why is what important to me?" Dean asked, taking a sip of his beer, just watching his friends laugh and play games ahead of them.

"The angels' names." Gabe replied. Neither were looking at each other, they were just contently surveying the impromptu party. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I'm just curious."

Dean took a moment and pondered it. Lately, his dreams were getting more vivid. His memories of his other life seemed to surround him, like something was happening, and he'd been dying to confide in somebody. And though he and Sam weren't as close as he'd like to be, they did tell each other a lot when they would talk on the phone, but still it wasn't enough. Dean didn't want to drag Sam into the hunting again, so Dean compromised with himself and he didn't tell Sam anything about angels being real. He told him Gabriel was a hunter, and Kevin was just a poor kid, not a prophet. He took Gabriel and Kevin with him to Sam's wedding so that he'd have backup and he made them promise not to get too personal, just to save Sam from having that information. Gabriel relentlessly teased Dean about bringing an actual archangel to his brother's wedding when he wanted to disconnect Sam from the supernatural, but Dean almost liked knowing that secret the whole time they were there, so he let Gabriel say whatever he wanted about it.

Truthfully, Dean was tired and he wanted somebody to understand his burden. Something nagged at him, making Dean feel like it was important to tell Gabriel the truth that he'd hidden from everyone else.

"It's kind of a long story, but there's one angel I don't want to get hurt. I've convinced as many hunters as possible to hold off on killing angels until I ask you their names."

Gabe raised an eyebrow, but it wasn't judgement, it was curiosity. "Who's the angel you're looking for?"

Dean considered not answering. He had never told anyone here about his past life, and therefore never told them about Castiel or Jack. But he wanted to get this off his chest. "Castiel."

He heard a ruffling of feathers and saw Gabriel had gone. It took only a minute for him to return, beer still in hand, back to leaning against the frame opposite Dean.

"Totally not for you or anything, but I popped up to heaven to ask my dickwad brothers about an angel named Castiel. I know you've never heard of him, so you don't care, but if you did care, he's alive and simply following heaven's mundane orders and watching over soul intake."

Dean snorted at Gabriel's joking attempt at disconnecting Dean from the topic at hand. Gabe loved to do things for Dean and immediately act like he did it for himself.

He didn't know how to feel, knowing Cas was alive. The wrong Cas, but at least now he knew that Cas wasn't the rogue type here, the angels that turn on humans. Raphael was currently in charge of heaven and with Gabriel's influence it was running as planned, with little to no angel interference. No pushing for an apocalypse they can't even begin to start, just taking care of souls and occasionally helping humans. 

"I told him to keep an eye on him too. Just in case."

"Thanks Gabriel. Really, thank you." He looked into the angel's eyes this time. Gabe smiled, happy to be useful, but Dean could see he was dying for more information.

Dean sighed and beckoned to sit down at the table, further away from the hunters and witches who were celebrating. "I know you're aware that there are some strange things that I seem to know about that I shouldn't. Or at least, that's what I was like more often when we met." Dean was aware that overtime his knowledge of the other timeline was playing a smaller and smaller role, as more time passed, more things changed and were new events, but he still occasionally could bank on a case he solved back in the day with his brother.

"Of course, like how you knew I was an archangel, my name specifically, before you had ever interacted with a single angel." Dean nodded in agreement. Gabriel tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I was always curious but not enough to actually try and figure you out."

Dean hung his head, unsure of how to explain what happened next. Gabriel could seemingly read his mind.

"Look, I know you want to tell me, but if it's hard to say and you really want me to know I could always…"

"Poke through my memories?"

"Just a little peek. Crack open that ol' noggin of yours. If you want." He added the last part sternly. But Dean nodded.

Gabriel carefully rounded the table and slowly put his hands on Dean's head. His eyes glowed that crystal angel blue and he stood there for a moment, absorbing his thoughts. It hurt a bit, but Dean let down all his walls and just let Gabriel peek through, so it was no struggle at all.

After a moment, Gabriel was finished and he wordlessly returned to his seat across from Dean. He stared at him, his face expressionless but his eyes betraying his true amazement.

"What all did you see?"

"Not everything. But the specifics. The death. The damn apocalypse." Gabriel leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "You and your brother stopped the apocalypse?!"

Dean nodded. He was smiling, both at Gabriel's awe and at the immense relief he felt knowing that someone else knew his secret. 

"And Castiel, the angel, I can see why you want to be careful." Gabriel's voice was a bit smaller. Dean cringed, wondering if Gabriel had seen what happened to him.

"Did you see-"

"Asmodeus?"

"Sorry, I didn't-"

"It's alright." Gabe smiled. "I only saw what you knew, what you experienced, so it's not like I watched myself get tortured. Though I do owe you thanks. For making me join this life, helping you. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that it was all my hiding that led to him taking me. And you chuckleheads got me out of it then."

"You don't have to thank anybody."

"Except maybe Castiel." Dean's face fell, not because he was upset, but looking into Gabriel's eyes as he mentioned Castiel and knew who he was, it was harder than he expected. "I see why you want to keep tabs on him. I saw what he did for you, what he meant to you." On another day Dean might have been more defensive and guarded about his personal issues, but keeping this time travel secret for seven years took a toll on him.

"I owe him for sending me here. My brother is safe, and look at how happy they all are." He gestured to the gang of people, none even noticing what Gabriel and Dean were doing. "I know you wouldn't have seen any of them since you only saw the big events, but some of them, a lot of them, were dead. Or they had unhappy lives, or both."

Gabriel leaned forward a bit, staring at Dean, searching his face for… something. "You know, if you want, I could get Castiel from heaven."

Dean's veins turned to ice. Gabe was offering something Dean had dreamed of since losing Cas and Jack, seeing one of them again. Seeing Castiel again after seven years. Gabriel would probably have him borrow Jimmy Novak again. He could see Cas again.

He shook his head. "I appreciate it, more than you can ever know, but it wouldn't be him. Not really. My Cas was only who he was because he knew me, and Sam. He helped me, even when he was still under heaven's orders. He became human for a while, he betrayed us and got betrayed by us, he lived in this bunker, he got to know Jack, he watched movies with us, hunted with us, he…" Dean almost choked on his last words. "He raised me from hell. The Castiel here wouldn't know me, or care about me in the slightest, and he wouldn't have been through enough to even know where to begin to care about individual humans. My Cas grew and loved and lost. This one sounds like a pencil-pusher."

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic and respectful smile. "I understand, and I admire that about you. You don't want just any version of him, you want him." He stopped for a moment. "And Sam?"

"What about Sam?"

"You're not happy with him. Not really."

Dean shook his head. "I am. I made the choice, it was the first choice I made when Cas sent me back, to keep Sam out of this life."

"I know, and I know you made that choice because you wanted that for him. But it's just like Cas. You don't want just any version of Sam. Even a version of Sam who's married and safe. You want your Sam."

Dean laughed, shaking his head. "How'd you get to be so smart, Gabe?"

He put on one of his classic Gabriel grins. "I was always smart Dean-o, it just took all you doofuses a long ass time to catch up."

-

Dean woke up peacefully for the first time in a week. He had a dream last night, one of the good ones that he hadn't had in quite a while. All week he had been having nightmares about Leviathans devouring his friends, the most disturbing ones were when they'd eat Kevin or Gabriel. He even had dreams of Dick Roman himself as a Leviathan again, shooting Bobby again, but in different locations, like the bunker, or Bobby's house, or those woods.

Even though it had been years living in the bunker, Dean never went out to the woods where it all happened that night. He finally did, feeling called to it, with Gabriel in tow, more than happy to be emotional support and he said nothing of judgement or anything that embarrassed Dean for needing to go out there and needing help. After seeing and understanding that Dean was now basically redoing a large chunk of his life, Gabriel was happy to finally understand his friend and what had made him so mysterious.

It had been only a month since the party where he told Gabriel everything. He was in the bunker alone right now, Garth had been staying for a couple days but he left before Dean went to bed. Kevin was out hunting and Gabriel was in heaven, doing something with Raphael that Dean looked forward to hearing about. Bobby was coming by in a couple days to stay a night or two, once he finished a skinwalker hunt in Ohio, so Dean would be alone in the bunker for at least two more days.

The good dream he had last night had been about Sam and Jack, but it wasn't a memory. He was in the woods where everything went down, and although it was light it didn't settle his nerves. He knew it was a dream, and he expected it to be a nightmare considering where he was. But he saw no bodies, no blood in the grass.

He spun when he heard a twig snap and saw nothing. When he warily turned back, he was amazed to see that Sam and Jack had suddenly appeared, but they were standing. They had no wounds, and they were smiling. Sam had an arm around Jack's shoulder and they both were staring at Dean.

"I miss you." Dean said to both of them. He'd had plenty of dreams where he'd reunite with them, and knowing they were dreams made Dean get down to brass tacks. When he first dreamt of seeing his family again he would start out with "why are you here?" Which morphed into "I'm sorry" which finally morphed into "I miss you" and "I love you".

"Dean, I'm so sorry you had to go through this." Sam's voice sounded less calm and reassuring, more frantic and sad. Dream Sam wasn't usually upset.

"We'll see you again. I promise." Dream Jack added. Again, he sounded different. More authentic, like this were a memory, but it clearly wasn't. 

"I don't understand, what does this dream mean?" Dean asked. The Dream Jack and Dream Sam shared a slightly concerned, knowing look. Usually his dreams would be upfront about being dreams. He'd received reassurance from Dream Sam before, reminding him that he wasn't real. But this was different.

That was when Dean woke up, confused but at peace. A suspiciously different dream wasn't anything to complain about amidst a week full of disgusting nightmares. And today was going to be a good day. Sam had invited him to lunch with Jessica. Dean could already guess that it was because he had a surprise announcement, considering they only met in person for each other's birthdays and the occasional Christmas or Thanksgiving. Every year it was always one, but never both. So this probably meant Dean would be an uncle.

While driving, Dean thought about what that would mean. He would obviously never tell Sam's son or daughter about the supernatural. Dean was sure Sam never told Jess, even though it was an important part of his life growing up. All it would do is cause her to fear more things in life, which she didn't need to do considering the safest place she could be was with a retired hunter who didn't exactly have a lot of kills to his name. Sure Sam would be rusty, but better to have someone who was a trained hunter with no enemies than nothing and be caught defenseless.

Once, Sam actually asked Dean to come by their house because he feared there was something stalking him in the neighborhood, but it was a just a kid who had a crush on Jess. Still, it was good to know that Sam trusted Dean to take care of it rather than trying himself, which Dean wouldn't have blamed him for.

Sam and Jess moved back to Lawrence, and Dean felt a little bit guilty keeping the bunker a secret from Sam, considering now they both lived in the same state and Dean never invited Sam over or even told him he lived in Kansas. Dean went out hunting all the time anyway, but he knew Sam would be impressed by the size of the bunker. But Dean didn't want to risk Sam getting compelled by the fancy tools and lore books to go on one quick little hunt. He knew Sam, and maybe this version of Sam would be less tempted, but he doubted it. He also didn't want to risk Sam being in the bunker and accidentally seeing Gabriel use his wings to instantaneously appear without using the door like he tended to do whenever he came home.

So it wasn't a far drive to meet them at a small diner in Lawrence. Dean recognized it, it was a place his mom used to take him when he was really little, but Sam wouldn't know that about him.

He had been right, Jess was pregnant. He was so genuinely happy for his brother, and he listened to everything the happy couple mused about that Dean didn't necessarily care about but pretended to.

"So Dean, how's the shop?" Jess asked. Sam's eyes widened a bit in panic, realizing he never aligned a story with his brother to prepare for questions. 

Dean wasn't worried. This Sam may be different, but it was the same Sam he knew at least up until 2005 when things changed, so Dean was able to easily navigate through Sam's story with no information.

"It's great! I just like working and I run my crew ragged." Dean smiled back at her. Using the word "crew" might have been risky if Dean didn't know his brother enough to know that the "shop" Jess asked about had to be an auto shop.

"Oh and how are those adorable coworkers of yours, Kevin and Gabriel?"

"They're great. Crazy as always, but they manage." A part of him did feel sad knowing that Sam not only didn't know Gabriel was an archangel, but mainly that he didn't remember the Gabriel from the other time.

Near the end of their lunch, Dean thought he heard a ringing sound. It wasn't especially loud but it was tangible. Sam and Jess looked confused, so Dean shook it off, but it persisted.

The sound finally subsided, cut out completely after it escalated to a screech. Only seconds after the sound had stopped, Jess screamed. Dean shot onto his feet, his hand immediately hovering over where his angel blade was concealed within his belt and jacket, and another hand over the concealed gun, unsure if there was a threat supernatural or otherwise, Jess pointed out the windows behind Dean that showed the parking lot of the diner.

When he turned he couldn't believe what he saw. It was Castiel. Castiel, covered in blood and hunched over, but it was definitely him. In fact, it was him as he remembered seeing him last, the wounded, dying Cas that haunted his nightmares about the night in the woods. He looked slightly better off than that night, but there were still somewhat fresh looking wounds in familiar places and shapes to the scars from his nightmare memories.

He would have assumed he was some sort of trick or illusion, but Cas was looking at the Impala, not at Dean. Whenever Dean had a dream or was really drunk and had a hallucination, the Sam, Jack, or Cas would be staring right at him. Sometimes bloody, sometimes not, but always staring directly at him. This Cas hadn't even looked inside the diner yet, hadn't even noticed Dean, but he had noticed Baby.

Dean ran out the door, he couldn't get outside fast enough. He could hear the heavy steps running out behind him and he didn't need to be a genius to know it was his brother, either sharing his concern for this stranger or simply following suit to try and help Dean with him.

As he flung the door open, Cas looked at him and saw him, finally. Even though he was beat and weak, a huge smile was plastered on his face. Cas didn't smile a lot, but when he did it was a sight to behold.

"Dean." Was all he said before, fainting, having worn out all his energy, but Dean caught him before he hit the concrete.

-

"He knows you?" Sam asked.

"Help me get him to the car!" Dean shouted at Sam, ignoring his comment. Sam's eyebrows raised in shock, hearing how shrill and cracked Dean's voice came out. He sounded afraid, no, terrified. So Sam helped put Cas into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean ran around and flung himself into the driver's seat, reaching over and feeling for a pulse, as though that would solve all his problems. "Cas wake up! Cas!"

There was something odd about this to Sam. Something familiar about the way Dean said his name.

Sam turned to see Jess, who followed them out. Sam jogged over to her, a confusion and frustration in his eyes matching the confusion and fear in her own. "Jess I don't know what's going on but I have to…" he signaled to the car. He was worried Dean was going to leave without him, as he assumed was his plan, but Dean was too busy trying to establish if his friend was dead to leave Sam behind yet.

"No, yeah, go. Go with them. I'll drive home, and you can call me when, well, when any of this makes sense." She gave him a weak smile and he kissed her before running to the car that he could hear the engine starting in.

Dean turned to look at his brother in the backseat. "No, Sam." Was all he said.

Sam opened his mouth to protest when the man in the trenchcoat stirred in the front. Dean directed his attention to him. "Cas? Hey, look at me. It's okay, I'm gonna take you to a hospital." Sending one more unsure glance back at Sam through the rearview mirror, Dean stepped on the gas and booked it out of the parking lot.

Dean was driving fast, really fast through the somewhat busy roads. Sam could see his urgency in how his left hand was white-knuckling the steering wheel as his right hand was white-knuckling his friend's shoulder.

"I'm going to be fine, Dean," the man, Cas, said. His voice was stronger than before and Sam got to hear how deep and rough it sounded, not like what he had been expecting from him. The way he smiled at Dean outside the diner gave Sam the impression that he was a gentle kind of man, a lighter one perhaps, but Cas' voice was low and gravelly, the kind of voice that his bloody figure would indicate. Sam could obviously guess hunter from the voice alone, and that would explain how he was so beaten. "I just need a little time, and then I can heal myself." Sam didn't want to know what that meant, probably just more hunter, weight-of-the-world, do-it-myself bullshit that Dean pulled all the time.

"Well, you can rest at the hospital. At least for one night, please." Sam watched as Dean turned his head to look at the man. The turn of his head revealed his face to Sam and he saw how concerned and terrified and thrilled he was at the same time. It was hard to describe, and even harder to pinpoint, but he knew that look. That was the way Dean looked whenever their dad had gotten back from a hunt late, bloody, but he had at least come home. His eyes were watering, and Cas met them with a firm smile, nodding in agreement as he clutched onto Dean's hand that rested on his shoulder.

Maybe another time Sam might have teased his brother for how he didn't move his hand away defensively, how he seemingly allowed this odd man to all but hold his hand for the rest of the car ride, but that was the last of the concerns he had at the moment.

"Dammit Cas, it's… good to see you." Dean's voice sounded tired and old, not like it did at the diner.

"Dean, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for… all of this. For everything."

"Don't you dare apologize to me Cas. Just don't." His brother shot the man a warning look. "You did… the best thing you could have possibly done." It was obvious that they were choosing their words carefully with Sam in the backseat. He was frustrated but not surprised. He could tell that even with all their phone calls and texts to each other that his brother had parts of his life that he didn't share with Sam. Stories that he'd end too quickly, leaving Sam wondering how he actually beat the monster, or he'd be talking about somebody but trail off, and end the conversation there. Sam never pushed, he figured that his brother was just trying to keep him out of hunting.

Truth was, Sam did want to hunt. Every once in a while, something would happen, or he would see something on the news, and he would go out and sit in his car, contemplating leaving, going for it, rooting out the monster. For the first couple years after Dean made him promise to stay out, it was the promise itself that was enough to deter him, make him just go back inside to his wife, his normality. Then it had simply been logic and time. He knew that if he were to go off hunting he shouldn't go alone because he was probably pretty damn rusty. He struggled to remember how to load a shotgun one time, and that was a wake up call. 

And he had been okay with that, really he had, but seeing Dean's concern and panic for his bloody friend and still keeping secrets rose something in Sam's throat. The way his brother looked at the man, the way that it had been almost five minutes and neither had moved their hand yet. His brother cared about him, with everything he was. A way Sam remembered Dean used to feel about him, that dedication and loyalty only a family had. Whoever this man was to Dean, Sam was damn sure that he was family. And himself having not been hunting with Dean in years, he couldn't remember the last time Dean looked at him with that same devotion and worry.

Oh dear god, Sam thought. Am I seriously jealous right now? Of course Dean is worried for his friend, he's covered in blood and he passed out the second Dean met him outside. Still, there was no denying that a secret part of Sam had always relished when his older brother was concerned for him when they used to go hunting with their dad. It was a bond forged in fire, but now all they did was share one sided stories about their separate lives.

"Still, I know it couldn't have been easy. I wish I could have helped you." Trenchcoat man sounded small now, he was clearly lucid but apologetic.

"How long?" Dean asked quietly. His friend cocked his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion. "How long until you get sucked back? Or disappear, or whatever?"

"Dean." Cas stared at him. Sam couldn't understand what they were really talking about, but the look of surprise and… joy? Was that it? On his brother's face was a bit jarring.

"You're here? Like, you're actually here now?" Again, Sam couldn't hope to interpret what his brother meant.

Cas just let out a single chuckle. "Unless you want me to leave."

"Hell no!" Dean shouted at him, jolting Sam in the backseat. It came out with such ferocity and defense that Sam was a little taken aback. He could see this "Cass" or whatever's face shift from joking and kindness and maybe a bit of pity.

"I'm not going anywhere now." Cas said reassuringly.

Sam hadn't seen his brother like this in a long time. His brother was still worried about the bloody man, but he seemed lighter. Maybe even happy.

Dean had surprised Sam a lot over the years. He was sure whatever it was that changed his brother happened while Sam was away at college, and a little part of him wondered if it was that night back in 2005 where Dean nearly drove them off the road.

2005, that night, something about it was calling for his attention, but he couldn't quite remember what.

But Sam had been surprised when he got the phone call that their father was dead. The phone call was short with no real explanation, and Sam was even more surprised when Bobby held a gathering for him at his house. Sure, a hunter meeting wasn't abnormal when a well-known hunter had died, and Sam was glad to know that Dean was spending time with Bobby, glad to know his brother hadn't isolated himself, but when he went to the gathering he was met with more surprise.

He went without Jess, of course, and was glad he did because he hadn't heard so many drunk hunting stories in his life. Dean was laughing with some people Sam had never seen before. A small percentage of the hunters were more obviously friends of John himself. They kept more to themselves and got really drunk, sharing stories about him. But the larger percentage of people there weren't acting like it, and it took until Dean's fifth introduction before Sam realized that these people were there for Dean, not for John. They would always smile at him, it seemed like either they were really close with him or they respected him a lot.

And Dean himself didn't seem sad, or drunk. Sam expected to be carrying his brother around, taking alcohol out of his hands, and tucking him in Bobby's couch after everyone left, but Dean wasn't a wreck. He was composed, hell, he didn't even seem to really care about John Winchester at all.

At the end of the night the two of them had sat on Bobby's porch together, drinking a beer and talking about their dad. Dean had strangely allowed Sam to just ramble on about how he felt about his father, the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. Sam expected Dean to chastise him for having mixed feelings about their dad, but Dean seemed to agree. The way he spoke about their old man sounded like Dean, but one who had lost their father years and years ago. Dean had always been a bit brainwashed to worship John Winchester and do whatever he said, but suddenly he was calling him out for being a pretty bad father. That Dean, the one at Bobby's house with this newfound maturity and understanding of the world, that was the Dean he saw that morning in Sam's old apartment, the one who made him promise not to hunt.

There was a part of Sam that looked on his brother with regret as his brother continued to cling onto the man in the passenger seat. Things could have gone another way, and maybe Sam would be the one sitting side by side with his brother, comforting him, being looked at like he was the most important thing in the world. He'd had that once, but he lost it when he resigned to a life of normalcy. 

"Dean, I couldn't come here until that night in the forest was no longer possible." Cas began to answer a question Dean never asked out loud. "Things had to be so different that it could never happen."

Dean looked straight out of his windshield. "I had to throw out the last domino." He looked at his friend's confused expression. "Nevermind, I'll tell you later. So, you got here at the moment none of that was possible any longer?"

"Exactly. So I'm not entirely sure how long you've been here." There was a painful regret in Cas' face that Sam could pinpoint, and Dean's face looked guilty and nervous, like he didn't want to answer his friend because it would make him feel bad.

"It's been almost exactly seven years."

Sam watched as the man in the front seat whipped his head away from Dean and looked out his window. He could see the reflection of the man's face in the window. He had closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. That was the classic "Winchester" look. The look where they would be beating themselves up, blaming themselves for something awful.

Seven years since what? Seven years since that night he had been thinking about, the one in 2005. But this man wasn't there that night, he would remember that.

Sam was well aware of the awkward silence in the air around them. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they had reached the end of what they could say to each other around Sam without making this easy to understand. So Sam figured he would try to garner what answers he could.

"So your name is Cass then?" The trenchcoat man nodded. "Okay, Cass what?"

"I don't understand." He shot Dean a look, as if asking him for help, but Dean said nothing, he just grinned evilly, leaving Cas alone to figure this one out.

Sam was getting annoyed. He wanted to do research on this guy, find out who he was. Dean might trust him but Sam didn't. "Your name isn't just Cass. What's your full name?"

"My name is Castiel. I'm an…" he noted the man's awareness at what he was saying. "I'm a hunter." He finished.

"What kind of name is Cass Tiel? That sounds fake."

Dean had begun to outright laugh, both at his friend's helplessness and Sam's frustration. "It's Novak. James Novak." Dean answered. 

"Then why are you calling him Cas?"

"It's his nickname. Not very intimidating to meet a hunter named 'Jimmy' now is it?" It was a cover. A smooth cover, he'd grant him that, but still just a cover.

"Why did you say your last name was Tiel then?" Sam's voice betrayed how much he didn't trust the man, but if either cared about his opinion they didn't show it.

"My middle name is Castiel. I was making a joke." The flatness of the man's voice showed he wasn't exactly the kind to make jokes very often, and Sam wondered how he and Dean became so close.

"Castiel? That's a weird name."

"Yes, I suppose it is." He responded. Dean just laughed at them again.

-

Dean was pacing in the lobby of the hospital. Taking in the man's condition, they wouldn't let Dean or Sam anywhere near him yet, and they probably wouldn't until Cas told them that these two men didn't beat him up. That's certainly what it looked like.

Sam was on his computer, googling "James Novak". He wasn't surprised to find him, after all Dean practically gift wrapped the name for him, knowing he would look him up. It looked like the bloody man in the trenchcoat, but he seemed to be pretty boring. A wife, a teenage daughter. The daughter looked more like a hunter than Jimmy himself did. He had a goofy grin on his face in every picture he could find.

What finally sealed Sam's knowledge that there was something wrong with this, he found a video that his daughter Claire posted, captioned "home from my hunting trip!" With her mother and father in the background. The picture had been posted that morning. And it wasn't in Kansas. There was no physical way for Jimmy to be in that photo and then outside that diner.

But Sam had to admit, it was something. He looked exactly like Jimmy Novak. He couldn't explain it yet, but he wouldn't try to get any more answers out of Dean. When he tried asking him more about what was going on when they got there Dean basically just ignored him.

Sam looked in later as the doctors let them see him and he watched as Dean sat by Cas' bedside, and the two were mumbling about something. Sam wasn't going to leave it there, and he knew that he was probably going to have to follow them to wherever they would go next.

-

Dean walked into the room and saw his friend lying on the bed. He was cleaned up and he looked more alert, even though he was in a hospital gown, lying in a bed like a sick child. 

It didn't matter where they were, it mattered that Cas was here. He was somehow here and now, and it was because that future where he died could never happen now.

"I could probably heal myself now, but I think the doctors might be a little suspicious."

"It's okay we can leave in an hour anyway, so you can just heal up when we get home." Home. When we get home. Their home. It wasn't just Dean's lonely bunker, it was the home that he was going to take Castiel back to. "There's a lot to catch you up on."

"Dean, I know you don't blame me but I am sorry. I can't believe it took seven years to change the future completely."

He reached over and grabbed Cas' hand. "This isn't on you, Cas. You gave me a second chance. You gave the world a second chance. I may have been without you and Sam and Jack, but I managed to do a hell of a job here." He smiled at him warmly. "I haven't been alone here either."

"I see your brother has changed."

"Yes, and I wanted it to be like that. You sent me back to the night I dragged Sammy back into this mess, so I dragged him right back out." He looked out into the hallway to see Sam divert his gaze to the floor as if to pretend he wasn't watching them. "He's happier this way. He doesn't seem to like you very much, though."

"Probably because I'm a strange, bloody man you had to drag into your car."

Dean laughed. God, he was happy. He was damn happy. "Cas, I can't tell you how good it is to see your face, and to hear your voice, to just be with you again. I've made some better friends than I ever had before, but I've missed my family."

Cas squeezed Dean's hand back, the feeling unexpected but very welcome. "Dean, you'll get to see them again." He looked deep into his eyes. "You remember your dream last night?"

"How did you-"

"It wasn't a dream. I woke up in that clearing in the woods beside them. I healed them, and myself but it didn't stick for me when I got sent here. They went back to the bunker and Sam wrote you this letter." Cas reached over to the bedside table and picked up a folded piece of notebook paper. 

Dean looked at him in awe, as Cas continued. "Sam and Jack, at least our Sam and Jack, are waiting for us when we catch up to them. Which, I know won't be for a long time, it will be eight more years, but-"

"But we'll see them again. I've waited this long, I can wait longer." Dean smiled at his friend. He wanted to run around cheering, he wanted to jump on top of Cas and cry into his shoulder, but for now he just held onto his hand and the letter, written by Sammy, the Sammy who Dean knew inside and out, the one he thought he lost forever.

-

Sam watched as Dean helped Cas to the Impala. He was clinging to his arm under the guise that he was aiding him. The strength in Cas' steps made that unlikely, but he could tell neither was willing to point that out. Sam hopped in the car Jess' friend dropped off for him and followed the Impala out.

Dean drove all the way to Lebanon, Kansas. Sam was grateful for that, as he wasn't sure exactly how long he'd be out driving tonight. He thought Dean might drive to Bobby's, so that they'd have a home to go to.

The Impala led him to an enormous facility, stashed away. Sam was still good at tailing people unnoticed, but he had to run to catch the door before it closed behind the two men. He snuck in behind them and looked around. They were in a huge, secret bunker. It was insane. There was a table with a giant map on it, books everywhere, a large telescope, he had no idea where Dean had taken them.

He watched as they walked down the stairs and stood next to the table. 

"I see it hasn't changed too much." Cas noted, like he'd been there before.

Dean smiled warmly at him. "Still just as big as before."

Without another word, Cas pulled Dean into a tight hug. Sam felt a little guilty watching, as it seemed as though that hug was incredibly important to both of them.

Dean was shaking slightly, obviously crying into Cas' shoulder. He had his arms wrapped around the man as far as they could go and his hands bunched up the trenchcoat the man was wearing. His face was buried in Cas' neck. Cas had one hand on the back of Dean's head, holding him, his fingers tangled in Dean's hair. He was pressing his cheek against Dean's hairline, his eyes closed as he breathed steadily into the hug. There was something urgent and necessary about their embrace, like they had been waiting years for it.

They finally pulled away, albeit hesitantly, after a full minute. Neither seemed regretful or uncomfortable, they just seemed genuinely happy to be near one another. 

Sam sat down on the stairs, near the top so that they couldn't see him. He figured he'd reveal himself in a few minutes, to make them think he hadn't come in while they had hugged. He owed Dean that.

Next to his foot he saw a folded piece of paper, one he had watched Cas hand to Dean in the hospital. Dean must have dropped it when they got inside, and against his better nature, he opened it.

It was strange to see, but it looked like his handwriting. Maybe a bit messier, but definitely his.

Dean,

Cas says that the second he disappears, we'll see you again, so for me I only have to wait a few minutes to talk to you. But I know for you it will be more like fifteen years since you watched us die. I know there's a Sam where you got planted, and I know he's the same guy I am, but I also know you aren't going to let him hunt, and I get it. But that means you won't have me, and Cas says that it's probably been at least five years since he sent you back. I haven't been aware of that passing of time, for me and Jack it's like we just woke up from a night's sleep. Which I guess we did, but not you. I'm sorry you had to do the first part alone, it kills me to know that you went five years without me, and that you'll continue to live without me. But I know you, you're my big brother and you're stubborn as hell and I know you've devoted this redo to saving more people than you did before. It makes me happy that you'll have Cas again, and you should use this time to love him like you didn't get to before. I'm your brother, I'm not blind you know, and I know he loves you more than you realize.

With whatever you've done and will do without me, I want you to know that I love you and that I'm proud of you. Living my life alongside you has been a privilege and you're the best man I know. I wish I could write more so that you'd have more to reflect on for the next few years, but I know you don't need that, and I know you'll just be happy hearing anything at all. Besides, I can see Cas shuffling his feet in the corner waiting for me to finish and he's desperate to see you again.

I love you, Dean. I always have. And when you finally get to see me again, maybe we can go out and buy those matching hawaiian shirts you so desperately wanted.

Jack says he loves you too and tells you not to mess with his room while we're gone. I'm damn glad you're there for that kid, he needs you, Dean.

Sam

Sam looked up from the paper to see Dean and Cas watching him worriedly from the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't even heard them or noticed them noticing him.

"What is this?" Sam snapped at them, desperate for an answer that made sense. Desperate for anything to explain why there was a letter written by him that he never wrote, why he said he had died.

"We need to talk." Dean beckoned him to come down the stairs and aat him down at the table. He took the note from him and read it for himself.

He watched as Dean was tearing up by the end of it, Cas putting a hand on Dean's face, cupping it gently. He looked up at Cas with this hope in his eyes, and after having read the letter Sam could put two and two together as to why.

Dean and Cas sat next to each other across from Sam and shared a stressed look before they turned back to Sam.

"Sam, do you remember that night in 2005, when I dragged you out of bed to look for dad-"

"And you almost crashed the car? Yes I've been thinking about it all day and… oh my god!" Sam shouted, looking between Dean and Cas. "I remember why that name is so familiar now! You called for him when you fell out of the car!"

Cas snapped his head to look at Dean, his eyes wide but his brow furrowed, as though he were searching for an injury. Dean laughed loudly.

"I fell out of this car seven years ago, Cas." He patted the man's arm firmly, and Sam noticed as his hand didn't leave Cas' arm. Turning back to Sam, he continued. "Well, it's hard to explain, but I came from the year 2021."

Sam blinked at him.

"I know it's crazy, but you already know about the supernatural so I don't have you give you that talk. But there are certain things that are real that you didn't know about because not even dad knew. Sammy, angels are real. And they can swing things like time travel."

Sam had to take a moment to collect himself. Angels? He had always wanted to believe in angels and in god and heaven, but he was never sure. "Angels, like with wings?"

Dean and Cas shared a look Sam didn't quite understand. "Not exactly, Sammy, they're like demons in how they need a vessel to walk the earth. The difference is, they need that vessel's permission."

"Wait so, if angels are real, why haven't they defeated the demons? Like a war or something?"

"No!" Both Cas and Dean shouted at the same time.

Dean composed himself. "A war between angels and demons means the apocalypse. That doesn't end well."

"The apocalypse?!"

"Yes. And angels aren't always the good guys. They're beings with free will and minds of their own. Most angels I've met, in both timelines, are dicks."

Sam watched as Cas narrowed his eyes and glared at Dean, looking offended. "No offense Cas! Not all angels are dicks." Sam's mouth fell open and Dean spoke for him. "Cas here is an angel."

"Castiel." Sam managed to piece together why the name made sense now, and it was all he could say for a minute. To their credit, Dean and Cas let him think in silence for a little bit. "So, if I'm getting this right, an angel sent you sixteen years into your past?" Dean nodded. "But you had your memories, so it was sixteen years of a life you already lived through."

"Yes, but with some changes I had to make to avoid-"

"Me and Jack dying?" For a moment Dean looked caught off guard to hear Sam say Jack's name, but he read the letter so he knew what he meant.

"Not just you and Jack," Castiel cut in, "but all four of us. You and Jack were dead, I was dying, and Dean only had a few more minutes too. Sending him back was the only way to save him. And you. And quite possibly, the world." Cas leaned forward a bit. "I've lived in a world without a Winchester protecting it before. I tried to do what it was you did but I couldn't seem to figure it out."

Dean gave Cas a sympathetic smile. "You tried, and in that world, that is the best any of us did."

"Wait, so you sent Dean back in time. And you did it to stop certain events from happening. That's kind of cool actually." Sam decided not to overthink how complicated this really was. "So, wait, what's different now, in this 2012, than in your previous 2012?"

"Well, for one, you. In my original 2005 I dragged you off to help me look for dad, we solved a case, and when you got back, Jess had died." Sam's eyes bulged out of his head. "A demon killed her, but obviously I stopped that from happening. If you never went back to hunting, I knew you'd be happy and safe and get married and have kids. And clearly I was right." Sam smiled a little, thinking of his pregnant wife.

"In my time, we screwed things up. A lot. We accidentally jumpstarted the apocalypse, and we were supposed to be the vessels for Michael and Lucifer to duke it out. But that didn't happen here. I was able to use the knowledge I had from the first time to take out some of the heavy hitters we kept losing to, like when I told you I killed that demon that killed mom. Not to mention I have been keeping things from you."

"Like what? Like the fact that you're from the future? Or the fact that you have this mansion of a bunker only four hours away from where I live?!"

"Like the fact that my two friends that I brought to your wedding weren't just hunting buddies."

"Oh my god, it wasn't like God or something was it?!"

Dean and Cas both laughed at that, Sam figuring Dean filled Cas in on what he missed on the car ride over here.

"No, but Kevin is a prophet, and Gabriel is an archangel."

"Wait, Gabriel's an archangel. Like, the archangel Gabriel, from the bible?!" Sam leaned back in his chair. "The archangel Gabriel gave my wife and I a waffle iron as a wedding gift."

Dean smiled at the memory. "Yeah and he went all out with that non-stick."

This was a lot to wrap his head around. Time travel. A Dean who was sixteen years older than he thought. A Dean who wasn't grieving his father at that gathering because he had lost his father years ago, a Dean who had realized long ago that their father wasn't dad of the year. A Dean who loved his brother so much he refused to let him live alongside him, giving up his brother. A Dean who was living a life that made Sam jealous, living in a giant, cool bunker with angels and prophets, having talented and interesting friends, a Dean sitting next to an angel who couldn't stop looking over at him, just to make sure he was there and that nothing was hurting him in the seconds he looked away.

Sam realized that Dean had a Sam Winchester, a Sam without Jess, but a Sam who loved him. And of course, this Sam loved him too, but he wasn't sure he could love Dean with the devotion the other Sam, the future Sam did. He read that letter from him, that Sam talked about how knowing Dean was living without him was killing him. But Sam lived everyday without Dean and hardly batted an eye.

He realized that this jealousy he felt for Dean, and for Cas, and maybe even for future Sam, was for future Sam's life. The kickass, saving people, bunting things life. But Sam couldn't have that life.

Apparently, if Sam had that life, the world would end. Everyone would die. That was the life Dean came from, the one he wanted to avoid.

This life, the one he had so many new questions about, he couldn't be a part of. He had Jess, and the baby on the way. He was a lawyer, and a damn good one. He wasn't prepared for angels and prophets and biblical figures.

So Sam said goodbye. He shook Cas' hand, who just pulled him into a hug. It made Dean smile, he'd been doing that a lot now that Cas was here. He promised to visit more, including this weekend when Bobby was coming to stay.

He gave his brother one last hug, where he held on longer than usual. He knew he would see more of Dean than he had before, yet at the same time, knowing the truth, it felt like a goodbye. It was a goodbye to a Dean that he thought he knew. This Dean didn't truly want Sam around, he wanted future Sam, and Sam couldn't become him now.

He smiled and waved down the stairs at Dean and Cas, standing side by side, arms pressed against each other as if they were still scared one would blink and the other would disappear. 

Sam took a long look at the bunker, the bunker he would be in again, probably a hundred times out of curiosity, but it wouldn't be quite the same between them. They each had their own lives now, and he could see that now.

He was looking forward to meeting future Sam in about nine years, and thanking him for what he did for Dean that Sam himself couldn't do.

-

He was in the woods, surrounded by the Leviathans. He'd had many dreams of being in those woods, seeing the corpses of his family, unable to do anything. But the Leviathans were never there.

So maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe all the progress he made, all the disasters he avoided, lives he saved, he still couldn't stop it. He was alone, unable to stop the Leviathans, never going to see Cas or Jack or Sam ever again.

He didn't have borax, just a machete, like the last time. He maneuvered through the Leviathans, chopping off their heads if possible, but he was being swarmed. He was being hit from all sides, being chewed on and tossed around. One Leviathan that Dean remembered well began to dig into his side. It was just like what happened seven years ago, only now he was alone.

He burst upward in his bead, breathing heavily. It took him a moment to realize he was in the bunker and he turned on a light. He was in his room, and he was alone.

It was a dream. It had all been a dream. Cas never came back, he never told Sam the truth, Gabriel and Kevin had been long dead, Jess burned on the ceiling. He failed. Cas trusted him and he failed.

It was a panic attack. Dean found himself shouting "no" over and over again, digging his fingernails into his forehead and scratching over and over, drawing blood. He was rocking back and forth, screaming and scratching away his skin.

He heard heavy footsteps running quickly, and someone banging on his locked door, but he didn't process it. He saw Leviathans chasing him, killing him, and he was alone, alone, alone.

-

Cas didn't sleep. He didn't need to, but there had been several times where Dean informed Cas that watching over people while they sleep is considered creepy, so Cas never did.

But now that he was here in the bunker, it was all he wanted to do. He hadn't wanted Dean to get tired and go to bed because Cas wanted to spend every minute he could with him, but he had to respect that humans need their rest.

For Jack and Sam, it had been like waking up from a nap. They had no idea when they woke how long it had been for Dean, but Cas did. He lied, didn't want Dean to worry about him anymore than he already was, so he asked him how long it had been. But he knew how long it had been. Seven years, twenty four days, 15 hours, 38 minutes and 10 seconds. He was asleep, partially. But he was aware of the passage of time because angels weren't supposed to sleep.

It passed easily for him. It wasn't like he was consciously experiencing all seven years, he was just aware of it, constantly aware of how alone Dean was. When Dean told him about Gabriel and Kevin living in the bunker, he had been overjoyed, just knowing that Dean had people around most of the time, that he had so many friends he could count on.

But even with support, Cas didn't know the full extent of what Dean had gone through. How could he? He had to repeat cases, remember every detail to avoid disasters, and he had to do it all, yes with knowledge, but without Sam. So maybe he did it with Bobby or Garth, and hell, having Gabriel around with his power and his capacity for human emotions and kindness might be even better objectively, but it wasn't his brother. Cas may not understand the full extent of ways those two felt about each other, but he knew damn well what they would sacrifice for one another.

And Cas? Well, he loved Dean. More than anyone he had ever met. Dean taught him how humanity worked, and he showed him more than his thousands of years surveying them ever had. He showed Cas what it meant to love someone, to sacrifice for someone, to fight for someone, and what a family was.

But Cas didn't feel that way about Sam. He loved Sam and to him, Sam was his brother. But with Dean it was more, and Castiel wasn't quite used to more. He had never explored "more". He just knew that when he held Dean's hand in the car, when Dean held onto his arm while talking to Sam, the way they stood side by side, it was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

So he spent the night pacing the familiar halls of a bunker that felt so recent and yet so long ago. He mused about how fun it would be to see Gabriel again, to go on a hunt with Dean and Gabriel and whoever else and just exist alongside Dean Winchester again. Where he felt whole.

He heard a scream. A lot of screaming, actually, and it was all coming from Dean's room. He was shouting "no" over and over and over again. A responsibility, a devotion, a loyalty, rose in his throat as he ran through the halls as fast as he could to Dean's room. He tried the handle to find it was locked and began banging on the door.

"Dean? Dean! Dean, let me in right now! Dean!" He was throwing his entire weight with his hands as he pounded on the door, panic growing in his chest. Muttering about how pissed Dean would be after this, Cas used his angelic strength to kick the door open, breaking off the lock completely. 

Dean was sitting with his feet hanging off the bed, still shouting, not even noticing Cas breaking into his room. Castiel was horrified to see the blood running down Dean's face as he screamed. He was immediately in front of him, kneeling on the ground to be at eye level, and he grabbed Dean's arms to pull them away from his face and steady his rocking figure.

"Dean, look at me. I need you to look at me!" He grabbed Dean's head aggressively and dragged it into place so that Dean was staring into Cas' eyes. Though he lessened the pressure, he did not let go of his grip on Dean's face.

"No, you're dead. You're dead and I failed you. I failed, I couldn't do it and I'm alone. I'm alone, everyone's gone. You're gone and I'm alone." Dean's voice was just as frantic and hysterical as his screaming had been, but this time it was quieter, matching the hot tears pouring down his face. 

Cas' grip on Dean was firm. "I'm here. I'm right here, Dean. Please, see me. I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you alone again. You will never be alone again Dean, do you understand me? I won't let that happen, I could never let you go through that again." He was desperate, desperate to understand what Dean was going through, desperate to just scream "I love you Dean Winchester!" Over and over until Dean was better again. But all he could do was reach his fingers up to touch his forehead, healing him of the scratches on his face.

Dean finally seemed to understand where he was. "Cas? Are you really here?"

Cas smiled and nodded, himself crying too. "I am, Dean. I'm here. I'm always going to be here."

Cas was caught off guard by Dean throwing himself off of his bed and into Cas' arms, clutching the angel tightly like he did earlier that day. But this time it wasn't a reunion, it was a relief, a need for comfort, a need for him to be real. And Cas was well aware of this feeling, this need, this desperation. He pulled Dean practically into his lap and just held onto him. They were both crying and shaking and just holding onto each other. Cas was comforted in a way he never imagined when Dean pressed his palm to the back of Castiel's head and rubbed his fingers up and down under his hair. And Cas did something he didn't expect himself to do, but he placed a kiss on the top of Dean's head, the way Dean used to talk about Mary doing when he was hurt.

They stayed like this until Dean fell asleep in his arms, having cried out all of his strength. Castiel picked him up, cradling him and setting him on his bed. He drew the blanket over him and shut out the light.

As he turned to go, Dean grabbed his arm. "Please don't go." His voice was quiet and weak. "I mean, you don't have to stay, I just, it's just that…" Dean tried to cover, unsure of how Castiel felt.

But Cas just smiled at him. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll watch over you." And he did, he sat upright on Dean's bed with Dean's head in his lap and a hand in his hair. 

He would stay like this forever if he could, protecting and loving him. He had to make up for lost time. 

When he was sure Dean was asleep, he bent his head down and kissed Dean's forehead, a kiss that put a dream in his mind. A dream of him fishing off of a dock with Castiel behind him, watching in silence. But this time, Dean took Cas' hand, and he seldom let go of it ever again.


End file.
